


Let me see what spring is like on Jupiter and Mars

by aurembiaux



Series: Come to the Dark Side, we have fanfics. [2]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: BDSM, Begging, Blow Jobs, Burnplay, D/s, Dirty Talk, M/M, Office Blow Jobs, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Spanking, Verbal Humiliation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-02
Updated: 2019-01-02
Packaged: 2019-10-02 13:52:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17265371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aurembiaux/pseuds/aurembiaux
Summary: Armitage Hux meets Poe Dameron and discovers that, in spite of his problems with authority, there is a kind of discipline the other man is craving.





	Let me see what spring is like on Jupiter and Mars

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Giinny](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Giinny/gifts).



The official parties of the Empire are terribly boring, it is known, and if Hux hadn’t already agreed, he would by now. They are luxurious, for sure, full of the finest products of the galaxy, but the music is old, and the chatter idle. The Empress herself, Hux has it on good authority, finds them abhorrent. The only guests that seem to enjoy them are the ones that belong to his father’s generation, and that’s not surprising: those parties were shaped by them, so many years ago. Sloane is making a good job of removing those dodderers and changing them with younger, more useful people, but they still conform a good part of the ruling group of the Empire. Therefore, they and their parties are a necessary evil.  
The kind of parties that Hux’s generation seem to find interesting are, in his opinion, even more boring than this display of mummies wrapped in silks or stuffed in uniforms. His peers, the sons and daughters of the ruling class of the Empire, aren’t but a gang of spoilt and weak brats, as he found out when he joined the Military Academy. Their parties include recreational drugs, mystic rites that parody the Jedi and Sith rituals and even Republican music -all of which is illegal, of course. The illegality doesn’t exactly worry Armitage –they probably are the safest and most privileged group of the galaxy, so nobody’s going to complain- but he finds this display of frivolity extremely decadent and distasteful. He shows up in some of this reunions, from time to time –after all, they will be one day the richest and most powerful people of the Empire- but he has never felt more out of place (more bastard, a traitorous voice in his mind supplies) than when he is there. They always make him miss the stark, austere beauty of the life he had while being raised in the Academy his father directed, where only your own wits and strength mattered. Brendol Hux mistreated him in many ways, until Sloane made him stop, but he didn’t make him weak or spoilt, that was for certain.  
Subsequently, he isn’t extremely popular among his peers, except maybe as an eccentricity, or because of Sloane interest in him. When Poe Dameron approaches him in one of the official parties, he wonders if it will be because of the first or the second reason.  
“Hi,” Dameron says, with a huge grin and an offered hand, and Hux wants to sigh at this unauthorized display of familiarity. “You are Armitage Hux, right? I’m Poe Dameron. I don’t think we have met.”  
“I don’t think so, no,” answers Hux, shaking the offered hand. He had seen Dameron around, though, both in the Military Academy and in those hideous parties his classmates are so fond of, although he is some years older than the other boy is. Unlike Hux, Dameron has known everybody since they were kids, and seems to be very at ease with them. That’s not surprising, considering he is quite fond of parties of any kind, or so the rumors say. Armitage knows, however, that Dameron is one of the best pilots of the Academy, perhaps the best, and his charisma will probably make a good officer of him.  
“The Empress said I should meet you,” Dameron explains. “She seems to have a very high opinion of you.”  
Hux tries not to show how much pride he takes on that.  
“I look forward to prove that her interest in me is well placed,” he answers, polite and proper.  
“I’ve heard you already have,” says Dameron. Maybe the rumors are true and he is genuinely a good guy, because he seems really happy for Hux. “You are top of your class, right? The teachers always praise you.”  
“I like our studies,” he says, shrugging, and Dameron nods.  
“Yeah, me too, for the most part.” He sees someone then, and waves. “Listen, I have to go, but it has been good meeting you. Will you go to Adreena’s party next week?”  
Hux considers it. He really wasn’t planning on going, but being seen there with Dameron will not hurt his reputation among his classmates.  
“Probably.”  
“Great!”. Dameron shakes his hand again, an excessive display of effusiveness in Hux opinion. “See you there, then!” he adds, and leaves.  
*  
They do see each other in that party, but it isn’t until some time later that they have the conversation that starts it all.  
“I just think it’s unfair,” Poe all but whines, and Hux has to take a sip of his drink to resist the urge of running away. He had, after all, been enjoying his beer in blessed solitude when Dameron had seen him, dropped in the nearest chair and started complaining about a very well deserved reprimand he had gotten from a teacher. “Don’t you agree?” he says, his big and expressive eyes begging for approval. He won’t get it this time, though.  
“I really don’t,” Hux declared. “Surely you can see why she was angry with you.”  
“Well, yes, of course,” Dameron admits, rather weakly, and Hux contains a sneer. The golden boy is unused to being disliked. “I just think it’s a little bit… excessive, you know?”  
Once again, his eyes look for approval, but Armitage only snorts.  
“Honestly, I think that this Military Academy’s discipline is a joke, Poe. You don’t really want to know what you would have gotten in the Academy I grew up in, not to mention that if you had been caught complaining, like you are now, the punishment would have been doubled.”  
That makes the other boy think.  
“They say it’s very strict,” he comments, reflexive.  
“More than you could handle,” he answers, and Poe looks affronted.  
“Why?” he demands. Hux has to smile at that.  
“I think we both know you are not cut for discipline,” Armitage answers, taking a sip of his drink.  
“Come on, I’m not that bad,” Poe complains. Hux snorts, and then he nearly spits the beer he is drinking when the boy asks, “Do you want me to show you?”  
“Show me what?” he asks, surprised.  
“That I can take orders. Why don’t you show me what the discipline in your Academy was like?”  
“What, you want me to give you orders? Here?”  
That makes Poe smile.  
“I had thought we could go somewhere more private, to be honest”, he says, and it’s then that Armitage notices the look the boy is giving him. Ah. It’s that kind of discipline he wants.  
“I wouldn’t have thought you were interested in that”, he says, reflexively.  
“Appearances can be deceitful, I guess”, Dameron answers, leaning towards him. “So, what do you say? Do you want to give me orders for a while?”  
They end up in Hux’s bedroom, which allows them privacy due to the fact that students in their last years can sleep individually, instead of sharing rooms. Still, there is no lock to prevent from unwanted interruptions, and Armitage wonders if that arouses Poe. It does arouse him.  
“Strip,” he says, in his best imitation of an officer’s tone.  
Dameron notices it and chuckles.  
“Have you been practicing that voice?” he asks, beginning to undress. Hux glares at him, mainly because he has.  
“Nobody said you could talk,” he answers, and Poe, halfway in taking down his pants, rises his head to look at him and licks his lips.  
“Sorry, sir,” he says. His tone, full of both faked sheepishness and desire, goes straight to Hux’s dick, who watches as he takes off the rest of his clothes. When he concludes, Poe straightens up, gloriously naked, his clothes a mess on the floor.  
Hux does his best to look disappointed.  
“You failed and we haven’t even begun yet,” he says, careful to sound nearly bored. Poe looks questioningly at him, clearly disconcerted, and Hux rolls his eyes. “Tidiness is a virtue, Dameron. You are going to get on your hand and knees, take each piece of cloth in your mouth, and crawl to that chair,” he explains, gesturing towards the furniture. “Then you will fold them neatly and go back for the next, until the floor is cleared. Am I understood?”  
Judging by Poe’s look, this is a little bit more than he was expecting, and he loves it.  
“Yes, sir,” says the boy enthusiastically, dropping to his knees, bending down to take his undershirt between his teeth and looking back up at Hux with an expression that makes the ginger feel like he is about to burst in flames of pure, uncontrolled lust. He somehow manages to keep the stern look as he nods towards the chair.  
“Go on.”  
For the next minutes, Poe does as ordered, and Hux can’t find any cause to complain about his performance, except that it is perhaps a little bit… showy, all unnecessarily arched backs and canting hips. He considers smacking that plump, perfect, tempting ass and telling Poe to stick to the orders, but he decides against it. It’s the first time they are doing this, and he prefers not to push the limits of an unexplored sexual partner.  
Besides, he might not have asked for a show, but it is an enjoyable show anyway.  
When Dameron finishes his task he returns to Hux feet and looks up at him, mouth open as if to ask a question, but he closes it when the older man tilts his head.  
“Get in the bed,” he says, an order that Dameron is so quick to follow that obviously takes any question he was about to ask from his head. “Hands and knees.”  
Once the other man is settled, Hux considers taking off his gloves, but lets them be. He quite likes this difference –Dameron, stark naked, offering himself, waiting for whatever Hux chooses to give him; he, on the other hand, still perfectly dressed in his uniform, not a hair out of place, deciding what he wants to give to the other man and when to give it.  
For now, he chooses to give him a loud slap in the ass, to which Poe reacts with a delighted sigh and an involuntary movement of his legs, that fall open a little bit more once the initial jerk at the hit has subsided. His obvious pleasure is so compelling that Armitage finds himself repeating the motion, again and again, dropping a rain of blows in his backside and thighs.  
Around the eleventh, though, Dameron has to go and open his big mouth.  
“Is that all that your Academy discipline had to offer? I’m feeling disappointed.”  
He is panting with exertion and arousal, but Hux can also hear the amusement in his voice. The little shit.  
“Well, no,” he answers slowly, arching an eyebrow. Dameron turns his head to look at him and Hux lets his hands go to his belt. “Actually, I was just warming you up,” he says, undoing the belt, and Poe’s eyes widen. “But if you feel you are prepared for more, we can skip to the next phase, of course. Keep count.”  
To his credit, Dameron takes the belting like a champ, moaning and cursing under his breath but not missing a single number, even if he is stumbling with his words towards the end and has buried his face in the pillow without asking for permission to change position. Still, he is overall a good boy, and Hux doesn’t feel like reproaching him anything. If there are more encounters between them, and he truly hopes that there will be, he is looking forward to discipline him further in them.  
When he feels pleased with the state Dameron is in, Hux gets up and lets the belt in a nearby chair, taking also the chance for removing his boots. Then he goes to the drawer and opens it, eyeing Poe cautiously. The other man, who is still breathing heavily, cracks an eye open and looks at him, mumbling in an interrogative way. Armitage smiles at him –an awkward gesture for him, unused at it as he is-, and lets a hand trail through Poe’s curls. That immediately relaxes him, to the point in which the ginger is ready to claim that he positively purrs. That’s an information worth saving.  
“You did well,” he praises, which compels a big smile in Poe’s face. “I’m very proud of you.”  
Dameron mumbles his thanks while Hux takes off his gloves and goes back to his earlier position in the bed, opening the bottle he had taken from the drawer, a lotion that he keeps for chafing and other minor inconveniences of the military exercises he takes part in. Poe whimpers a little at the first contact of his oiled hands against his reddened skin, but he soon relaxes when the lotion starts to make an effect. Hux helps him to lay on his stomach and pours more lotion in his hands, enjoying the way that Poe, that radiating ball of perpetual, even annoying energy, seems to melt under his ministrations. After a while, he ventures sliding a finger through the other man’s crack, and when Poe shudders and whimpers a ‘yes, please’, he knows he wants to see his face while doing this.  
“Turn around,” he says, the hoarseness of his voice a surprise even for him.  
Poe hisses a little at the contact of his ass against the sheet, but he opens his legs immediately with obvious enthusiasm. Hux starts getting a finger inside of him, which goes easily enough, and Poe even rocks his hips against him. Armitage arches an eyebrow and looks at him, going for the second finger, and the other man blushes a little but opens his legs further apart. That’s interesting; if a judging look got that reaction from him, derogatory comments might be in order in the future.  
For now, though, he concentrates in twisting his fingers until Dameron is whimpering and canting his hips towards him. Hux lets him, but tsks and slaps his hand when he tries to wrap it around his cock.  
“Hands in the headboard,” he orders, stern. “You will come on my hands, and nothing else.”  
Dameron moans at that and closes his eyes, but he complies quickly enough.  
“Yes, sir”, he says, being rewarded by a twist of Armitage’s fingers.  
“Good boy,” he praises, running his free hand down Poe’s thigh. He insinuates himself close to his cock, but then takes a cruel twist and changes to sliding his nails through the same thigh he had been caressing, hard. Judging by the way the other man jerks his hips, he is not disappointed, exactly.  
“Please,” Dameron says, his eyes big, shiny and pleading. “Please.”  
“Please what?” asked Hux, with a smirk. “I can’t have you babbling whenever you get distracted, you know. Ask properly.”  
“Please, sir, I want to come. Would you-” Poe’s breath catches when the ginger twists wickedly his fingers again. “Would you please consider touching me?” he manages to ask, so nice and proper that Armitage really feels compelled to reward him.  
“Oh, well done,” he says, taking Dameron in his hand. The younger man did need to come; just a few strokes get him over the edge and he spills himself all over his own abdomen and Hux hand.  
For the first time, Hux takes into account that there is no way he is going to avoid getting his trousers dirty; both of his hands are sticky, either with lube or with Poe’s come. He considers ordering the other man to open his fly, but Poe’s still panting heavily, his eyes closed and both hands gripping the headboard tightly. With a sigh, Hux gets up and looks for a proper handkerchief, before popping open the button and fly and taking himself in hand with relief.  
Now, he thinks, pumping lazily and watching over Poe’s body, there are different options for how to do this. He could crawl back between the other’s thighs and come over Dameron’s ass, make a further mess of him. He could also paint new white strips over his abdomen, mix them with the ones that are already there; rub them into his skin so he will smell of his pleasure. Coming over that pretty face… Hux’s cock twitches at that though, but he files it for later –better to talk about it first.  
He is yet undecided when the pilot opens his eyes and looks at him, his gaze still clouded by lust.  
“May I ask a question, sir?” he says. Hux is rather pleased at the fact that he is keeping his manners after getting what he wanted.  
“You may”, he answers, feeling lightly awkward standing like this. But he soon gets distracted by the way in which Dameron bits his lip, licks it, bits it again, and then opens his mouth to ask:  
“Can I suck you off, sir?”  
Hux really hopes this is going to happen again.  
*  
It does happen again. Even if that’s his last year in the Academy, they manage to use it handsomely, and if there is something that Hux can admit he will be missing of that place, it’s certainly Poe in his bed.  
Next time they meet each other, after a few years, Hux is slowly but steadily climbing his way through the Empire ranks, and has been recently given command of his first ship. Some months later, Dameron is sent there to make some improvements in the pilot’s techniques, and Hux is unsure of how to evaluate him and his effect in the crew. He is still too unruly for his own good, not to mention the crew’s morale, but he is also dearly beloved by the troops. Each person approaches the officers under their command in different ways; Hux lets them know anything they can do he can do, too, and so he earns their respect. Poe knows their names and life stories and throws them smiles that make them feel special and valued. That seems to work for him and for everyone, so all in all, Hux is willing to give him a long leash.  
When Dameron really fucks up because of his disobedience, though, he is forced to reconsider this.  
*  
“You,” Hux growls when Dameron comes into his office, “are on hell of a problem, Captain.”  
The idiot seems quite surprised.  
“Am I?” he asks, and the ginger really has to fight the impulse to roll his eyes. Instead he stands up and walks towards the other man, taking full advantage of his height to throw him an intimidating glare.  
“What were you thinking when you disobeyed your orders in such a blatant way?” has asks sternly.  
Poe frowns.  
“Well, I was thinking that the plan would go better that way, and I was right, wasn’t I?” the pilot answers, defiant. Hux lets his breath out slowly.  
“You endangered the whole operation by acting the way you did, Captain.”  
“I didn’t,” Dameron says, as if it wasn’t obvious. “And if I did, it obviously worked, anyway, so I fail to see the problem.”  
“You fail to see the problem,” Hux repeats, appalled. “The problem is, Captain, that orders are meant to be followed, because they belong to a larger plan.” Poe’s stubborn face betrays his thoughts on the matter. “Stars, you really don’t get it, do you? I could slap you, I swear.”  
Something flickers in the pilot’s eyes at that.  
“Well, slap me, then,” he says in a flirtatious tone. “Maybe that will help you to get in a different mood and unwind.”  
For a second, Hux is terribly tempted to slap him for being such a smart-ass, and he doesn’t mean to be soft about it. He suspects that wouldn’t really change Poe’s behavior, thought, and he wants to deliver a lesson that will last in his memory.  
“Strip,” he says, striding towards his desk. He sits behind it, lighting up a cigarette, and closes the access to his office while he looks at Dameron, who gets undressed swiftly. Armitage smiles ironically when the pilot folds his clothes and leaves them on top on the chair opposite to his; the other man is awfully efficient following orders, in certain contexts.  
“Come here,” the redhead tells him when the captain is finished, rolling his chair backwards. “Kneel,” he orders when Poe reaches his side, and the pilot obeys, smiling. Armitage fights a smirk. This is definitively not going to go as the other man expects. “Lift up your hands, palms up,” he says.  
That surprises Dameron –he really has the most transparent face- but he obeys quickly enough. Hux takes the ashtray he had been using in his hand and leaves it in the other’s open palms.  
“Hold it there,” he says, before turning towards his desk and starting to go through his datapad.  
For a while he just works, throwing a glance at Poe from time to time. The pilot holds his tongue through it, although he is clearly impatient, and after a while he starts to fidget a bit, his knees and shoulders probably hurting. He is also obviously aroused, biting his lower lip in a way that Armitage knows well, and leaving it as red as his cheeks and erect cock. Hux pretends not to notice any of it, turning to him only to flick his wrist and use the ashtray. Only when the cigarette is nearly finished he lets the datapad in his desk and turns towards the captain.  
“Looks like you are enjoying yourself,” he says with a smirk. “Maybe I should use you as an ashtray, if you like it so much.”  
He hadn’t really thought about it, to be honest, but Poe’s eyes widen at the thought, and he lowers the astray to the floor, immediately holding up his hand in clear invitation. Hux trousers suddenly seem horribly tight and his mouth goes dry, but he keeps control of his face and throws the other man an annoyed glance.  
“Your palm belongs to the Empire, pilot,” he hisses disdainfully. “Turn it over.”  
“Sorry, sir,” Poe mutters, obeying quickly. Hux takes the hand in one of his own; for a second he thinks this must look as if he is about to kiss Dameron’s knuckles. Instead of that, he presses the cigarette there, hard; it won’t prevent Dameron from working, but it will hurt anytime he moves his hand. Good. It will be a reminder.  
The pilot breath catches at the burn, but the lust doesn’t disappear from his eyes. Hux drops the butt in the ashtray and lets go of his hand, turning his chair towards him.  
“Take care of this,” he instructs, opening his belt, and Poe scrambles forward to open his fly and take him out, quickly getting Armitage’s cock in his mouth.  
He has never known anyone who takes blowjobs so seriously; Dameron’s intensity never fails to surprise him. He has both amazing skill for them and an accurate sense for spectacle, making the right noises to drive him crazy, sending him lustful glances and keeping a good rhythm with dramatic pauses. He enjoys giving head so much that Armitage feels no remorse when he pats his head after spending himself in his mouth and calmly says:  
“Dismissed.”  
Dameron’s face is precious.  
“What?”  
Hux buttons his trousers and returns his attention to the datapad.  
“Maybe next time you will remember that you must follow orders, captain, for everybody’s interests. Until you do, I have no further use for you.” He points at the door. “As I said, you are dismissed. Don’t make me say it again.”  
*  
Hux doesn’t try to analyze Poe’s desires; each person has their own kinks, and it’s really not his business. One night, though, after an official reception they assist to, he can’t help to think about it.  
Both of them get medals, Hux for his tactic contributions, Dameron for bravery. Sloane seems proud of Hux, which is immensely satisfying; he has managed to impress some important people, too. That, however, pales in comparison to Poe’s crowd of cheering fans. Hux is far from surprised –the boy knows everybody, either because of his family’s connections or because of his own undeniable charm. It’s an altogether pleasant night, and both of them seem to have fun. That’s why Hux is surprised when, instead of going to party with the hordes of admirers that look at him in awe, Poe asks him if he would like to go to his quarters.  
Dameron knows how to land that kind of offer, and Hux, even if he weren’t high in praises and champagne, doesn’t really have any good reason to let it pass.  
He can’t help to take notice of how eager Poe is for it, though; the boy is naturally impatient, but tonight he is even more than usual; he gets naked in no time, immediately dropping to his knees and begging prettily to be allowed to unclothe Hux and suck him off. The redheaded mocks him slightly for his neediness, and that only seems to fuel the other’s lust; the way he moans and bobs his head when Armitage fucks his mouth makes the older man fists his hair and pull him up, dragging him to the bed. Dameron readies himself so quickly that Hux wonders if his moans are partially from pain when he starts to get inside of him, but the pilot isn’t shy about letting him know what’s too much, if necessary.  
“My, my, Dameron. What worked you up so much? Being decorated? Something some of your fans told you? It surely weren’t the relics who handed us the medals. Even you aren’t so degenerate.”  
He could swear the pilot blushes.  
“Shut up and fuck me,” he grumbles. Now, that kind of behavior can’t be tolerated, really. Hux slaps Poe across the mouth, hard enough to make a point, but not hard enough –he knows it by experience- to satisfy the other man.  
“So mouthy,” he sighs in a reproaching tone, and stops for a moment, in spite of Poe’s whining protest, to bend towards his nightstand and grab one of his gloves. He shoves it into Dameron’s mouth, admiring the way his lips curve around it, how it hollows his cheeks, the contrast of the black leather against his tan skin and red lips. He then takes the pilot’s wrists and pins them to the mattress, above his head; leans his weight on them and thrusts hard. Poe’s legs cross behind his back, pulling him even closer.  
“Don’t you think I have forgotten what we were talking about,” he continues. “So, what was it? I don’t really think it was the medal; you like being told you did good, but it has never turned you on that much before, or at least you didn’t come to me if you were. Are you really pervert enough to be aroused by that display of aging flesh? High-ranking aging flesh, but still…”  
Poe shakes his head, but the shame in his eyes is enough to convince Hux that he has hit close to the truth. Something crosses his mind.  
“Fuck, Dameron. You are so used to being a poster boy that sometimes you want to forget you are that, isn’t it? Sometimes you want to be treated like shit.” The pilot shouldn’t be allowed to play any kind of cards game, Hux thinks thriumphally; his face betrays every thought. “And you get off thinking about them knowing. All those officers that congratulated you and said how brave you are, how inspiring… what would they say if they knew you were dropping to your knees the moment we came into this room, begging to take my cock in your mouth?”  
Whether he has thought about it or not before, Poe is getting off in the fantasy, that’s for sure, his hips canting upwards and his mouth uttering amazing sounds in a row. Hux sneers and trails a hand through the other man’s chest, pinching a nipple hard enough to make him open his eyes.  
“I bet it wasn’t the first time you thought about that,” he keeps going. “Maybe you fantasized about it in the Academy… fuck, surely you didn’t stop at the thought of them knowing; surely you thought about them using you, about those teachers you admired using your mouth the way you love. A dirty boy like you… damn, I’m sure you got off thinking of licking the boots of everyone you have ever worshiped.” A particularly nasty thing comes to his mind. “I bet you have fantasized about it while they were sitting by your side at your mother’s table, haven’t you? Did you get hard just thinking about them shoving you against that same table and having their way with you, between the main course and the dessert?”  
Fuck, he is now getting off on the fantasy too, getting close, and Poe keeps moving his hips like he can’t get enough. The ginger holds his wrist with one hand and closes the other against the pilot’s throat, pressing slightly but firmly, possessively.  
“Maybe I should let them know,” he whispers into Poe’s ear. “Maybe I should spread around the word and lend you to our superiors. A night inside of you and they would give me a promotion, I’m sure of it.”  
That seems to be a little too much; Dameron starts wriggling against his hold and Hux lets go of his throat to take the glove off his mouth.  
“I need to come,” the pilot babbles. Hux hums and slaps him with the glove, just for the sake of it. The leather leaves a bight trail of spit in Poe’s cheek; it mixes with the sweat and all in all contributes to make him look thoroughly fucked, especially when he moans again.  
“Ask properly,” Armitage says, because really, having someone balls deep inside of you doesn’t justify losing your manners.  
“Please, sir, please let me come, please…”  
Good enough.  
“Come, then. Come thinking about all them seeing you like this.”


End file.
